Timeless
by EmeraldRomance
Summary: Falling through the time portal alone, Emma must find a way back home without disrupting the course of her future. Despite her intentions of avoiding the past versions of all her Storybrooke acquaintances, a chance encounter with a persistent pirate captain may prove that true love really is timeless. Canon Divergence from 3x21/ Captain Swan
1. Chapter 1

**Synopsis:**_ "When I win your heart…and I will win it…it will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me."_ Falling through the time portal alone, Emma must find a way back home without disrupting the course of her future. Despite her intentions of avoiding the past versions of all her Storybrooke acquaintances, a chance encounter with a persistent pirate captain may prove that true love really is timeless. Canon Divergence/Captain Swan/First Person POV

**Disclaimer:** I make no profit from the writing and sharing of this work. All characters are property of ABC and Once Upon a Time. I am merely borrowing them. ;)

**A/N:** This story was born from reading fandom musings that perhaps Killian DID remember meeting Emma as a bar wench. If that's the case, then it certainly brings new meaning to many of his lines: "I was hoping it would be you…" "It's about time…" "It's called trust…" "When I win your heart…" and the list goes on, and on, and on. So I decided to give life to the theory by altering the events of the finale (for fun; I agree it was pretty perfect as it was) and present you with this Canon Divergence version of Emma and past!Killian establishing a future timeline which would explain some of present!Killian's most memorable lines. It starts out quite angsty, but will become romantic. Rated M for some violence, language, and sexual content.

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**Chapter 1**

**Running Without Direction**

"_One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman." _

I pushed aside a low-hanging branch and winced as I caught my foot on a fallen log, my ankle tender from the fall through the portal and the hours of hiking I'd done since. The soft purple haze of twilight had begun to blot out the golden hue of the day. Through the pillars of evergreens, I could just make out the telltale blaze of torches in the distance. At least, I hoped that was what they were. I'd been using their glow as a heading for what seemed like hours; moving nonstop since I'd barely evaded a legion of black-clad knights while confronting the truth about my current whereabouts. Staring at the face of my mother emblazoned on a wanted poster had quickly cleared up the where and when of my location.

"_One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."_

Bending at the waist, I rubbed my sore ankle and drew in several long breaths, willing my mind to focus on nothing but the task of finding shelter and food. At least for tonight. Tomorrow…tomorrow would be an entirely different endeavor. I was stuck in the past with no clue how to get back. My pulse pounded wildly in my veins, both from the exertion of the hike and…more. But I had no time to dwell on emotional pain, not when my actual safety could very well be threatened. I'd spent most of my life alone; this should be no different. Standing straight, I pushed forward through the brush, committed to keep moving physically even if my brain continued to root itself in things I couldn't change.

"_One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."_

The words played through my mind like a badly scratched record left neglected in a neighboring room. No matter how I tried to ignore them, they were there, insisting that I acknowledge them and adding to the immense ache lodged in my chest. Forsaking my permission, faces appeared in my thoughts: Henry, Mary Margaret and David, and him…_Hook_.

I could still feel the smooth leather of his sleeve against my fingertips, reliving the moment my grip had slipped and sent me careening into the time portal. For a fleeting second, I'd expected to see him falling with me. Somehow, even without realizing it, I'd come to _expect_ Hook to follow me to the ends of the world. Or time, as it were. But I'd hit the ground alone, gifted with only the echo of his parting words as the swirling void closed above my head.

"_One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."_

Apparently that day had arrived. Not that I blamed him; I'd done little to nothing to encourage his devotion. I didn't believe in leading people on, and I'd been serious about going back to New York City. _But you expected him to follow you there, admit it._ A swell of disappointment and guilt lodged itself in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. It didn't matter what I expected; not anymore.

"Focus, Emma!" I chastised myself. The torches grew nearer as the trees thinned. I could make out the shape of cobblestone buildings and hear the clamor of people. Oddly enough, the scent of saltwater and seaweed tinged the air. Or perhaps my mind's refusal to leave _his_ memory behind was playing tricks on me. I eased forward cautiously, using the few trees as cover until I reached a large bush several feet before the forest gave way to civilization.

I'd apparently come upon a small town. Men and women attired in muted shades of rough-hewn cloth scattered along the promenade, engaged in the expected tasks of closing up shop. I smoothed my hands along my own attire, conscious of how very different my modern clothes were to those of the Enchanted Forest. I doubted that red leather – no matter the shade – and denim ever came into fashion here. Scanning the closest building, I noticed a variety of garments left to dry on a clothesline. Making the decision to wait until the street cleared a bit more before 'borrowing' a new outfit, I moved to settle behind a nearby tree and continued watching the quaint scene before me.

Idly, I wondered how many of these people would wind up in Storybrooke when Regina enacted the curse. Had we passed one another in town before? Made polite conversation? Dined at Granny's at the same time? It seemed likely we had. There were plenty of people in Storybrooke that I'd yet to really meet. Not to mention, some faces were just harder to remember than others.

The sudden cracking of a branch beneath nearby footsteps drew my attention back to the forest. A small figure swathed under a bulky cloak emerged from the tree line, a bow strapped to his or her back. I crouched lower to the ground to stay hidden, cringing when my own movements snapped a twig under my boot heel. The figure glanced in my direction and I gasped. There, not ten paces from me stood my mother. _Snow White_.

I opened my mouth to call out to her before the loud whinnying of a horse jolted my thoughts back to the present. Or rather the past. This woman was not my mother. Not yet. To speak with her could have detrimental effects on the future, not to mention my own existence. Drawing back into the shadows, I held my breath until she continued on her way. I watched as she crept along the row of buildings before rounding a corner and disappearing out of sight.

An overwhelming surge of loneliness overtook me. I'd grown used to doing things on my own and relying solely on myself, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized how much I had let others into my heart since Henry knocked on my door two years ago. Even with my walls firmly in place, I'd come to accept my family as a fixture in my life, no matter where we called home. It was like I'd recently admitted to Killian…_Hook_; I did care about them. All of them. But I didn't think I needed them. Though, seeing my own mother as a stranger hurt. I really was alone now.

I waited nearly an hour longer before crossing the dirt road and pulling down the first recognizable set of women's clothes from the drying line. The stealing of the clothes turned out to be easier than the donning of them. The peasant blouse and billowing skirt were simple enough, but as I twisted the corset into place and adjusted the lacing, I couldn't help but wish for an extra hand. _How the hell does Killian manage to dress himself in these fairy tale get-ups with only one hand?_ My thoughts silently mused before I shoved them aside. Thinking about him would get me nowhere.

Covering myself with a cloak similar to the one my mother was wearing, I tucked my hair under the hood and gathered my modern clothing in a burlap sack. Who knew when or how I'd manage to find a way home? In the meantime, it seemed prudent not to leave anything behind. _Like you were_, my conscience remarked.

"_One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."_

I exhaled sharply and forced my feet to move. My first steps into the town were hesitant before I realized how ridiculous I was acting. No one in this time knew me. As long as I didn't make a memorable impression on anyone, I was free to move about and mind my own business. If anything, acting paranoid and stealthy would just call more attention to me. 'Fake it 'til you make it' was a common expression in my time. I was an experienced con and a professional bounty hunter; surely I could blend in at least for a little while. I'd been to the Renaissance Faire before. Once.

I unconsciously traced the path I'd seen Snow White follow. Really, in a town this small, there were few places to explore. As I rounded the buildings, the street descended down a steep hill toward a busy marina. "That explains the smell of the ocean," I mumbled to myself as I carefully dodged piles of manure and other unidentifiable hazards. I'd apparently discovered the main thoroughfare of the town, which was surprisingly lively given the time of night. Though, judging by the costumed women and the drunken men I passed as I walked, I wasn't sure I wanted any part of the action surrounding me. One building in particular seemed to be the focal point. Raucous laughter and cheerful music spilled out into the street. I would've bypassed it entirely if not for the accompanying scent of roasting meat and ale. My stomach rumbled painfully as my mouth watered. I paused to peer in through the filthy windows, noting the crowd feasting within.

_And just what do you think you're going to pay with? It's not like the men in there will buy you a drink for free._

Ignorant as I was to this land, I imagined any man willing to buy my dinner would expect some kind of payment in return. I somehow doubted offering to wash dishes would get me very far, either. "Stealing it is," I whispered, less than impressed at how quickly I seemed to revert to my criminal past. Though perhaps for once it _was _justified.

I slipped through the doorway and lost myself in the mesh of people crowded near the small band. The lively music was nearly dwarfed by the thick press of drunken revelry and the sound of dice dancing across wooden tabletops. I felt my eyes widen as I took in the scene, all of my senses on full attack in this compressed microcosm of medieval society. Ladies of the night sat in the laps of men who were more than three sheets to the wind while less comely faces looked on in envy. Several dogs lay slumbering at the feet of their masters, and across the room, a brawl was well on its way to becoming a fight to the death. I shook my head and took a deep breath, trying to focus my composure amidst all the distraction.

I crept into a corner near a table laden with half-full platters. Its occupants – two greasy looking elderly men who'd clearly seen better days – were busily recounting a story about a bet gone wrong. I only half listened until I heard a name I recognized.

"I'm tellin' ya it woz 'im; the Dark One. He turned 'im inta a shrew for not payin' the 'greed upon price," the first man explained before taking a large bite out of the turkey leg he held in his fist.

"Its rubbish! The Dark One has nae been seen in these parts for years," the second one replied.

As they argued, I reached behind them and grabbed a slice of thick brown bread, hiding it in the folds of my cloak. Their mention of Rumpelstiltskin sparked an idea: would he know a way to travel back to the future? Before Regina's curse?

"Well then I'm guessin' he's back. No doubt he'll be just as nasty as the last time," the first man spoke through a mouthful of food before reaching over and picking up a tankard of ale, sloshing half the contents onto his shirt as he washed down his dinner.

"I still say he's holed up in that castle. Heard he stole some nobleman's lass to keep as a slave," the second man continued.

My lips twitched as I recognized the story they were telling. _Belle._ They were talking about Belle. She'd told me this tale herself one morning over breakfast as we planned how to get Gold back from Zelena. Well, at least I now had a lead on where to start. True, I had no idea where Rumpelstiltskin's castle was, but no matter what time period I was in, there would always be someone around with loose lips.

I crept my hand forward again, intent on stealing one of the untouched turkey legs just as the tavern door crashed against the stone wall. A group of men ambled in, somehow louder than the combined noise of all the people already gathered.

"Make way for the most blood-thirsty, feared band of pirates to ever set sail!" Exclaimed an all-too-familiar voice.

"Oh shit!" I cried as my heartbeat thundered in my chest. Leading the aforementioned band of pirates was none other than him…Captain Hook.

I felt the blood drain from my head, causing me to sway where I stood. _No_. My thoughts screamed. _No, no, no!_ Forcing my feet to move, I did the only thing I could in that moment: I fled, knocking over a chair as I lunged from the corner toward the open door.

"Thief!" A shrill voice cut over the din of the room. "Stop her!"

I shoved past the crowd of bodies out into the cool night, intending to race back to my hiding spot in the woods. But as I ran, I realized I'd turned the wrong way, heading toward the dark water of the open ocean rather than the comfort of the thick forest. The towering masts of ships grew taller as I ran, and I cursed my ignorance as I recognized the familiar sails of the Jolly Roger. How had I missed it before?

_He's not supposed to be here,_ I thought angrily. Though who I was angry at in that moment was yet to be determined. _He's supposed to be in Neverland! _Or was he? I'd only assumed he stayed in Neverland until meeting up with Cora, seeing as he hadn't aged, but what was it they said about people who assumed? _Call me an ass, I guess._

I kept my pace until I literally ran out of space to run. Cobblestones and dirt turned into wooden planks stretching out into the murky water. My eyes scanned the array of ships a bit frantically, seeking a temporary hiding place. I refused to even consider _his_ ship. What a shit storm that would create! Barrels and crates waiting to be loaded decorated the boardwalk, though I quickly discarded them as suitable hiding places. I crept further along the edge of the water as my mind rallied for a solution.

The approaching sound of hurried footsteps and stirred voices sent a wave of anxiety rioting in my veins. I turned my head wildly before deciding to take my chances further down the boardwalk. The line of buildings ended abruptly about ten yards away. If I could just reach the corner, I could duck out of sight and make my way back to the forest. My boots made loud clapping noises against the aged wooden boards as I ran, all the while peering over my shoulder to track the progress of my pursuers. But just as I neared the corner of the last building, my foot caught in my ridiculously long skirt. I threw my hands out to brace myself for the painful impact I knew was coming. Only, it never did.

A set of strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a solid chest. Looking up, I met a pair of sapphire blue eyes I never expected to see up close again.

"Hello, love. Might I offer you a hand?"

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**A/N:** So, should I keep going? Are you intrigued?

Thank you for reading. I would love to know your thoughts. Review? Please?


	2. The Friction of Fate

**A/N:** I'm back! Sorry for the delay; had A LOT of RL work stuff to deal with (honestly, can't believe I'm finally on the other side of it!) I am SHOCKED by the following the first chapter of this fic generated. I'm so thrilled and humbled that so many of you are looking for more of this little venture into 'what if' territory. :D

Anyhow…just a little disclaimer that this is completely for fun. There will be angst, and I suspect some of the characters will grate on your nerves. But the end game is proving Emma and Killian's love really is timeless. Please keep in mind as you read that while I wrote this, I was imagining a Killian from before his interactions with Cora (he's not the drunk puppy Emma met in the finale, either) when he was hell-bent on finding a way to get revenge on his Crocodile. Also, this Emma recently saved Killian's life, then thought he CHOSE not to follow her into the time portal (it closed before he could). However, she has been through Neverland and the WWotW with her Killian, so he's not the stranger she met disguised as a blacksmith, either. This causes a lot of confusion on her part, some of which she doesn't even comprehend. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 2**

**The Friction of Fate**

I'd nearly drowned once when I was a child. One of my foster families took me and the other kids to a water park that had a wave pool. At first, I'd found the fabricated waves exciting, relishing in the momentum generated by the rolling motion of the water. But when I'd lost my raft and been pulled into the deeper end of the pool by a rip current, the gentle crescendo of water turned into an inescapable force intent on claiming me, pulling me further into its depths. The joy became panic. The exhilaration turned into suffocation. I could neither break through to the surface nor swim for safety. I was in the hands of fate.

Staring into the impossibly blue eyes of Captain Killian 'Hook' Jones brought me back to that moment of horrific enlightenment: We were _all_ pawns of fate.

He looked exactly the same, from his slightly messy dark hair to the scar on his right cheek and the insanely flirtatious grin curving his full lips. And yet, like Mary Margaret, he was a stranger. His eyes flashed with mirth and wicked intent, but not recognition. "Hook," I breathed out, caught in his strange spell.

His grin tipped higher as his face drew nearer, the rum on his breath stronger than ever. "So you've heard of me?" A warm hand wandered from my waist to my ribcage, inching ever higher. He nodded behind me. "Seems as though you've attracted quite the following yourself, love."

It was too much. His scent, his voice, his eyes promising sinful things…an incredible swell of déjà vu sent my thoughts reeling to another trip to the Enchanted Forest: bodies piled and dead; a handsome face emerging as the sole survivor. He was so familiar, yet so foreign all at once. Kicking into overdrive, my mind struggled to control my body's physiological response to him, reminding myself how dangerous it would be to interact with anyone from home, _especially _Hook.

"I've got to get out of here," I muttered, only partly realizing I'd said it aloud. Wriggling from his grasp, I stumbled backwards until several feet of space separated us. My eyes widened further as I took in his entire form, pausing on the red vest standing out from his otherwise black attire. Its shorter length accentuated his trim waist…amongst other things. Without my permission, my pulse tripped faster through my veins.

"Aye," he agreed. "A wise idea given the approaching mob. And all for a piece of bread." He shook his head. "Of course, I could assist you in your escape. Seems a shame to hand over such a treasure as yourself to the hangman's noose."

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed. Would they really kill me for pinching someone's dinner? Sparing him one last glance – and ignoring a sudden ache in my chest – I spun on my heel to continue my escape. Or, at least I would've were it not for the cold, steel hook suddenly wrapped around my wrist. With an effortless tug, he pulled me alongside him as he slipped into a nearby door, swiftly sliding the lock before turning toward me with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Just where do you think you're going? Do you honestly believe you can out run the Queen's guard? They'll have no doubt summoned it by now."

I felt my expression dim as swiftly as a drawn shade. The patronizing tone of his words combined with his expression was too much. Any shock at seeing him was wearing off. Spitting image aside, this was not the man who'd pledged to win my heart in Neverland. _This_ Hook could care less about earning my affections. Not that I'd ever let that motivate me with the Hook in my time, either. Suddenly his flirtatious grin seemed smug and challenging. But just as I didn't know him, _this_ Hook didn't know Emma Swan. "And you don't think they'll check the first door past where I was seen?" I raised my brow in contempt. "You've made us sitting ducks!"

His own dramatic brow arched in a way I'd seen him do countless times before. "Sitting ducks? What in the blazes do water fowl have to do with anything?"

My eyes rolled to the ceiling. "It's just an expression." Meeting his gaze once more with a smirk of my own I continued, "They're going to look here, and when they do, I'll bet they'll be a little more excited to capture an infamous pirate than me."

He chuckled, and I tried to ignore how the sound glided over my skin like a warm caress. _It's not him!_ I mentally exclaimed, annoyed at my own body's continued reaction to this stranger. He stepped forward, stealing into my space in that annoying way of his. His eyes darkened as he slowly traced my cheek with the curve of his hook before using it to lift my chin. "And I suppose you've a better plan?"

"I was doing fine without you," I spoke through gritted teeth, stubbornly holding still despite wanting to jerk away from his touch. I would not give him the satisfaction.

He scoffed and lifted his hand to scratch lightly behind his ear. Mumbling, I could just make out his words: "One of these days I'm going to learn to stop chasing beautiful women."

My heart stuttered as my breath expelled. The words were so similar, spoken in an identical cadence. I felt the threat of tears welling in my eyes and blinked furiously. I would _not _cry over him. Especially not this version of him; his mask of charm so practiced and fake it was a wonder he'd ever been able to strip it away. Assuming the man who'd stood by my side against Peter Pan and the Wicked Witch of the West had been sincere, that is. _What was it you said about assuming, Emma?_ I scowled at fake Hook. "The only one who will rescue me is me."

The rattling of the door handle interrupted whatever well-timed retort he'd undoubtedly planned to say. With several quick strides he crossed the small room and disappeared into the shadows. "Hook!" I whispered loudly. The efforts to get past the door doubled, shaking the frame on its hinges. Sighing, I quickly followed my would-be rescuer into the darkness. "Where are you going?" Robbed of sight, I held my hands before me to feel my way through the space only pausing when I felt the familiar slickness of smooth leather.

"What's the matter, princess? Need my assistance after all? Or is it that you couldn't wait another moment to get your hands on me?" The lilt of his voice positively radiated with his smugness. But I was more concerned with his chosen pet name.

"Why did you call me that?" I asked, my voice quiet yet firm.

His breath rushed out in exasperation. "Anyone as demanding as you must be descended from royalty. _Princess_. Now, if it pleases her highness, might we finally make our escape?"

"How? They've blocked the entrance," I pointed out.

"Like this," he replied just as a scraping noise revealed a dimly lit passage. Stone stairs descended out of sight, and the distinct feeling of creeping dampness wafted from below. Dusty threads from long abandoned webs hung from the ceiling. Wordlessly, Hook started down the steps without looking back, taking the sole torch from the wall sconce with him.

I was at a crossroads. Despite whatever burgeoning feelings I may have been developing for _my_ Killian I was not an idiot. I'd heard the rumors about his past. I was aware that the gleaming hook he loved to tease me with had been coated with its fair share of crimson. I'd even witnessed his capacity for violence firsthand. Though, that violent streak had never scared me; I knew I had my own, to a lesser degree. No, the real danger with this Hook was his motivation. _This_ Hook changed sides to suit whichever way the wind blew. How would I ever be certain of his intentions? Come to think of it, just why the hell was he helping me in the first place?

As if aware of my intense scrutiny, Hook turned his head to look up at me. Raising a brow at my obvious hesitation he commented, "It's called trust, love. You should try it some time."

His words rushed over me like ice water, my mind instantly transported to a vast room filled with treasure. I'd chosen not to trust him then and it had sent him back to my enemy's side. I'd often wondered how differently the course of events may have unfolded if I hadn't left him behind. Days later when he and Cora locked me and my companions behind bars he'd seemed honestly hurt by my betrayal.

_Now is your chance to find out_, my conscience whispered. To trust or not to trust? I didn't care what Shakespeare said; _that_ was definitely _my_ question. Taking a deep breath, I tentatively stepped onto the first stair to follow after him.

"Be a good lass and close the door behind you," his arrogant voice drifted from below. Scowling, I reached back to pull the secret panel into position then used the cool stone walls to steady my footsteps as I descended toward the orange glow of the torch. As it grew stronger, so did the sound of flowing water and my suspicions.

"Where are we going?" I asked automatically.

"So curious," he smirked. Turning, he strode down the passageway, not bothering to check if I followed or not. Either he didn't care, or I really was as much of an open book as he always claimed.

Sighing, but seeing no alternative, I trudged behind him. "Why are you helping me?"

His lack of response did nothing to inspire my confidence. Since when was Hook at a loss for words? The soft crackle of his torch was joined by the growing rush of water. His footsteps quickened, forcing me to lift my skirts to keep my boots from catching in the fabric once more. My fingers curled into the heavy cloth, wishing they gripped the familiar comfort of my gun instead.

"Hook!" I called. "Where are you taking us?"

The insufferable bastard continued with his apparent vow of silence. Irritation welled beneath my skin, sparking like remnants of my stolen magic. Almost of their own volition, my feet planted themselves to the cobbled stones laid within the dirt floor. "Tell me where we're going," I demanded.

He stopped abruptly and spun to face me. His head tilted with curiosity. Or was it amusement? "Or what? You'll turn back? Refuse to go on?" His voice was low and steady. That damnable smirk appeared again in contrast to his darkening expression. "You're quite brash to speak to a captain in such a manner…_princess_."

I snorted, unimpressed. "Please." Was he seriously trying to intimidate me with his big, bad Captain Hook charade?

My back was suddenly against the damp walls, caged in by a solid, warm pirate pressed to my front. Whatever sarcastic laughter may have been churning in my lungs was cut off by the suddenness of his movement. The torch cast ribbons of shadow across his fine features, highlighting the danger and the rogue Killian had occasionally hinted of during our bouts of reminiscing. But even at our worst moments of conflict, I'd never quite encountered this side of him. He held my gaze like a serpent mesmerizing its prey. Then, leaning so close that the scratch of his beard scraped against my cheek he whispered, "The next time you utter that word to me you'd best be offering it as an invitation rather than with derision."

My chest heaved within the confines of the ridiculous corset I'd wedged myself into and a fine trembling coursed through my body. Anger flushed my skin and clouded my rational thoughts. Placing both palms against his unfamiliar vest, I shoved. Hard. "The next time you invade my personal space you'd best be willing to lose more than just a hand. _Captain_."

Rocking back onto his heels, his face broke into a sly grin as he eyed me with genuine consideration. "Oh, I do admire your spirit, love. If only we'd more time to get to know one another properly." He held my gaze for several long beats, then looked off into the tunnel. "We'd best keep moving else high tide will claim the tunnel before we've made our exit."

Taking a deep cleansing breath I asked, "High tide? You mean this leads to the ocean?"

"Where else would a smuggler's tunnel lead?" He replied with his own dose of derision.

"And what's your plan when we do 'make our exit?'" I was careful to keep my tone neutral, though my patience with Captain Insufferable Bastard had passed wearing thin some time ago.

"Patience, love. We're nearly there. Though, if you insist upon continuing your caterwauling, you'll likely attract unwelcome company." He continued leading us down the path, our pace somewhat quicker than before.

_What an asshole! _Seriously, how had I ever found this attractive? I nearly bit my tongue to keep from verbalizing my continued indignation, willing my blood pressure to ease. He wasn't worth the aggravation. As soon as we reached the end of the tunnel, I'd be on my way and leave him behind, like I should've done in the first place! I'd already had too much interaction with him; there was no way Killian of the future wouldn't remember this encounter.

_Shit!_ A metaphorical alarm sounded in my thoughts. Had I already caused damage to my future time? Rescuing an unknown woman from the Queen's guard was certainly not something Captain Hook regularly did; right? Not that Killian had ever mentioned it to me, or maybe he wasn't aware of it in our future because I hadn't gone back in time yet? Yeah, I really should've paid more attention to those Back to the Future movies.

_And maybe spent more time listening to Killian rather than pushing him away?_ My conscience nudged once more.

Scowling at myself and at the raven-haired head in front of me, I considered my options. The sound of rolling waves was loud enough to signal the impending end of the tunnel. While he'd yet to make his intentions clear, it seemed unlikely he had helped me just to send me on my way. I trusted him enough to follow him when my only other choice was facing a squad of medieval policeman, but clearly our continued association would be a bad idea for everyone. But just walking away might leave too many unanswered questions...or _challenges_. If this Hook was anything like his future self, he wouldn't just let me be. Not without a serious deterrent.

"Ah, there we are," Hook's voice broke the silence just as a soft glow emitted from a narrow slit in a rock face about ten paces ahead of us. As he faced away from me to settle the torch in another sconce, I scanned the ground for a solution to my problem.

My eyes caught on a broken cobblestone lying by one of his booted feet. It was small – no bigger than my fist – but it was solid enough to knock a man out if applied with enough force. A memory of my fist connecting with Killian's jaw while clutching a magical compass drifted across my thoughts. Maybe this was one instance when history would have to repeat itself?

"Shouldn't you put the torch out?" I asked, partly trying to engage him in conversation so I could distract him, but also curious. While it hadn't entered my radar in the midst of fleeing from the guard, it was a bit odd that a lit torch had been waiting in the tunnel.

"I will as soon as you reach the exit, love," he replied, something unrecognizable dancing in his eyes. "My crew should all be returned by now."

"So they were the ones who lit it?" I frowned. "Did they know you would need it?"

He grinned – indolent yet secretive all at the same time. "There were certain…commodities delivered and acquired this evening which necessitated the use of the tunnel. Boring pirate stuff. Nothing of much concern."

_He's lying_. The thought came to me sharply. I was so unused to Killian being dishonest that it was actually a slight shock to my system. My heartbeat pounded in my chest as my decision narrowed in acute focus. The rock became a beacon, pulsing like one of the energy hearts in one of Henry's video games.

"What is it?" Hook's voice snapped my attention back to his face. For one fleeting moment, I saw my Killian looking back at me; the mask of Captain Hook forgotten as he earnestly tried to read my expression. I confused and intrigued him just as much as he did me. But I had an advantage. He didn't know when I was acting.

Shaking my head softly, I smiled shyly as I peered from beneath my lashes. Playing coy yet interested was a role I once adopted on a nightly basis; an almost surefire mix for attracting male attention to a distracting degree. On their part, anyways. Judging by the burning look brimming in Captain Hook's eyes, he was no different, no matter what he claimed about liking my spirit some moments earlier.

"It's just, I wanted to express my…gratitude. While we're still alone."

He sauntered away from the wall – and the rock – puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. If I wasn't so committed to my role I would've laughed. "Is that right, love?"

I nodded as I shifted my position so that he effectively circled us around, my back now against the wall with the loose stone. "I don't know why you helped me but I'm thankful just the same," I said, my voice breathier than usual.

Hook stepped closer as he licked his bottom lip. "Perhaps you might show me more of this…_gratitude_," he enunciated as he leaned forward.

I bent my knees to lower my back far enough down the wall that I could grasp the rock. Taking my movement as an invitation, he wrapped his left arm around my waist and pulled me in against his body. The tip of his hook pricked my side as shifted me closer, his face only inches from mine. I felt the weight of the rock in my hand and clenched my fingers around the smooth edges. The faint exhalations of his breath tickled against my cheek and I could almost taste the rum mixed with the tang of sea and salt that always clung to his skin. My pulse tripled in speed, and tears inexplicably stung my eyes as I cocked my arm to the side.

Hook's calloused hand wrapped around my wrist like a vise, slamming it against the wall by my head. Those devilish blue eyes opened slowly, locked dead on mine. "And what did you hope to accomplish by that little display?" He nipped the air between us and I gasped. Chuckling softly he continued, "What a challenge it would be to win your heart, let alone your trust. I knew you were different from the moment I saw you."

I pushed uselessly against his grasp. "So you followed me? Saw a pretty face and thought you'd stage a dashing rescue to get into my good graces?"

His bark of laughter was a sharp contrast to the gathering storm in his eyes. Releasing me as suddenly as he'd captured me he remarked, "And when did I make such an assertion? Someone thinks rather highly of herself." Eyeing the rock still clutched in my hand he lifted one of his brows. Though silent, the command was clear enough.

I rolled my eyes and tossed the stone away. "Are you really going to play the 'it's just a coincidence' card? _Really_?"

That damnable brow arched once more. "I have my reasons, and they are my own."

I scoffed. Farewell Captain Insufferable Bastard and hello Captain Delightfully Vague. He could evade the question all he wanted, it was clear his intentions toward me were not to my benefit. Consequences be damned, it was time for us to part ways. After all, he didn't know who I was; how badly could I have really messed up our future timeline? Hell, maybe one day Killian and I would have a good laugh over all of this. If_ you get back, and _if _he wants anything to do with you,_ my inner voice commented_._

I swallowed and straightened to my full height. No sense in borrowing more trouble when I had almost six feet of it still standing in my way. "Well, good luck with that. Thanks for," I paused, gesturing wildly with my hands, "whatever this was. Have fun sailing the seven seas and pillaging innocent ships, or whatever you do for kicks. But it's time for us to say our goodbyes." I stepped to the side and crossed to the tunnel exit.

"A bit daft, aren't you _princess_…" Hook called just as my foot crossed the threshold.

"Excuse me?"

"Anyone with any semblance of an education knows there are nine seas." His expression took on that measuring, assessing quality again. "Just where have you been?"

"A galaxy far, far away," I replied cheekily, having no idea what possessed me to quote Star Wars. "I'm sure you've never heard of it. Not yet anyways," I mumbled the last part.

Tucking his thumb under his belt, he let his eyes roam from my feet to my head and back down again. Really, his ability to switch from irritating jerk to flirtatious predator could give a person whiplash. "I don't know about that, love; I've been on my fair share of adventures."

"Don't I know it," I muttered.

"Come again?" He questioned, though it sounded more like a demand.

"Um…your reputation precedes you." I shook my head, once again struggling to make sense of this primitive version of Hook. How had I not seen just how much he really had…evolved?

Hook's eyes trained on my face as he closed the distance between us. His blue gaze searched my features with slight confusion. "What's your name?"

The seriousness of his voice set off the alarm in my head again. "Why? It's not like any of this will matter in the grand scheme of things," I retorted as I attempted to step through the opening again.

He spun me around, causing my hood to fall backwards and sending my hair tumbling around my face. Reaching forward, he twirled a strand of it through his fingers. His lips lifted in a combination of surprise and mischief. "Well, well…what sort of devilry is this?" His eyes flicked to capture mine again. "You're not Snow White."

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**A/N:** Duh, duh, DUH!

More soon. ;)

Review?


	3. Yielding Ground

**A/N: **I love this chapter. Hook really steals the show, if I may say so myself. Special thanks to Yettoseeyoufail for her witty repartee and some outstanding one-liners for our leading man. Also, thanks to you, my lovely readers! You all make me smile.

**Chapter 3**

**Yielding Ground**

"What do you mean, Snow White?" I called, but his retreating back offered no answer.

Sighing loudly, I hitched up my skirt and followed after him, stepping carefully across the loose rock of the tunnel entrance. The soft, sandy soil moved under my boots, making it difficult to find my footing. Not that it slowed _him_ down at all, the bastard. "Hook!" I shouted, gaining ground. "Stop!"

I slammed into his back as he came to an abrupt halt. The break in momentum threw me to the ground and I grunted as the dull thud radiated through my backside. He grinned, his eyes roving over me, paying particular attention to where my skirt had ridden up to my knees. I scowled and yanked the material back into place.

"Don't cover up on my account, princess," he leered. "I much prefer a state of undress when I've a woman on her back." His eyes danced with dark delights and he chuckled at my deepening glare. _How original_, I thought. Too bad his future self had owned that line much better than him.

He held his hand to me, contradicting his lascivious remarks with a small display of chivalry. Naturally, I ignored it. With a saccharine smile and eyes filled with daggers I pushed to my feet and brushed the sand from my skirt. "Is that before or after you've plied her with rum?"

His brow arched as he shamelessly stared at my chest. "Perhaps we'll find out."

I cocked my head. "In your dreams, _pirate_."

"That's _Captain_ to you," he winked, "and what lovely dreams they would be."

"Captain!" a harried voice called from ahead. A bright red cap was the first thing I could make out from the gathering darkness.

"What is it, Mr. Smee?" Hook asked – his tone indolent and his attention still firmly fixed on me.

"The Queen's guard is conducting a search and seizure of all moored vessels," Smee exclaimed through heavy breaths. His beady eyes flickered to me in interest before darting away as if I were Medusa and he valued his life. I smoothed my hand over my hair unconsciously.

"And is everything loaded?"

"Everything is to your specifications," Smee answered vaguely. At least, it was vague to me which was likely the point.

Hook continued his apparent staring contest, his eyes boring into mine as if attempting to read my thoughts. "Then it's high time we take our leave, wouldn't you agree?" Though his response matched Smee's, I wasn't entirely certain which of us he was speaking to, or who the 'we' implied. I had no intentions of getting dragged along on some pirate crusade, or whatever he was up to at this point of the timeline.

"Aye, Captain," Smee replied. He snuck another peek at me before rushing back the way he came. I'd had very little interaction with the man when he was wreaking havoc in Storybrooke, so I couldn't tell if his skittishness was attributed to me, Hook, or a combination of us both.

Hook shifted his stance, finally breaking his intense scrutiny of my face. He gazed out over the open water and I found myself mirroring his movements. The moon was a sliver in the sky – some distant memory of science class named it a waning crescent, not that it mattered. It was too cloudy for stars, but my eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to appreciate the small bursts of white dotting the endless void as waves crested and broke atop the obsidian surface. A small breeze ruffled my hair and carried the painful scent of the sea across my conscience. Standing so close to the ocean…so close to that stupid ship…so close to some walking, talking prototype of _him_ was painful. No other word would suit.

I waited for him to say something – surely he had another line of innuendo locked and loaded – but he continued his strange reverie. I studied his face curiously, once again searching for some spark of the Killian I'd come to care for more than I'd even realized.

He turned his head suddenly, catching my perusal. That hair-trigger smirk of his rose smoothly, and to my mortification, heat flushed my cheeks. "Seems the rum won't be necessary, darling, as you appear to be quite intoxicated by my striking appearance alone." He leaned closer and whispered, "Some even say 'stunning.'" With a wink, he followed after the path Smee had taken.

_Son of a bitch!_ I mentally cursed. My blood boiled even as my pulse ricocheted through my veins. "Don't you walk away from me!" I shouted, trying and failing to match his long stride. Damn fairy-tale costumes!

"I dare say I'm winning you over," he laughed, before ducking underneath the town's boardwalk.

"You're up to something. I can feel it," I grumbled, twisting my body to navigate through the forest of wooden pylons. Apparently, we were taking the back way.

Hook looked back at me, shaking his head lightly. "Tsk, tsk, love…too easy," he let his eyes wander over me again as a slow smile curved his lips. "I prefer a challenge."

God, it was like talking to a sixteen-year-old boy! _You did walk right into that one_, my conscience pointed out. I rolled my eyes, but my annoyance was further aroused because he didn't see it. Sighing indulgently, I muttered, "You're such a pirate!"

"Aye, love; that I am," he replied, though it was spoken more to himself than to me. We came to the end of the boardwalk where the sand gave way to a stone wall that sectioned off the channel. A steep staircase led up to the docks, and Hook wasted no time in making his ascent. Once again, he didn't bother to check on me, and once again, I followed. At the very least, I needed to make sure he wasn't planning to harm Mary Margaret, or disrupt the events which led up to my birth in some way.

Seeing the Jolly Roger up close and personal was just as uncomfortable as I feared. My stomach twisted and my feet felt weighted by memories – good and bad. Hook crossed the gangplank without any hesitation, immediately acknowledged by the cheers and salutes of his vagabond crew. One of his shipmates – a true, stereotypical pirate complete with an eye-patch and scurvy legs – leered at me. "'Ello, lovely, come from the tavern, 'ave ye? After the Cap'n's special attentions," he cackled. "Maybe we'll 'ave a go when he's finished with ye, ay love?"

I held back a shiver and turned my head sharply away. That was an unpleasant image I'd rather not ponder…not that imagining Killian with one tavern wench after another was much better. Somebody was getting tested for STD's before I'd even consider taking our relationship further, that's for sure. _That's if you get back, and if you ever have an actual relationship_, my annoying brain commented. Taking a deep breath, I marched across the aged wooden planks and caught up to Hook just as he reached the stairway leading to the bridge. In my periphery I caught the stunned, no, _pleased_ and very interested stares of his crew but barely cared. This was one wench they didn't want to mess with.

"You still haven't told me what you want with Snow White," I said, my demand clear in my tone.

Hook stopped halfway up the stairs, turning back to me. If he was surprised to see that I'd followed him he didn't show it. "And what business is it of yours? What is the little bandit to you, exactly?"

"She's my m-" I sucked in sharply, biting back my brain's immediate response. "I'm…a friend," I finally managed.

Hook tilted his head, amusement reigning in his expression. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the railing. "A friend. For someone so vehemently opposed to pirates, you're quite the little outlaw yourself. First thievery, now an admitted companion of an alleged murderer?"

_Danger, Emma; abort_! "We're not talking about me," I insisted.

"Of course not. That would require you to willingly reveal something about yourself," he replied, moving slowly back down the staircase step-by-step until he was close enough for me to feel the heat of his body along the exposed skin of my chest. "Well I've news for you, princess…you've already given away more than you realize."

I swallowed but held my ground. There was no way in hell, or whatever ring of purgatory this counted as, that I'd give him an inch. It was time to call his bluff. "Such as?"

His tongue flashed across his bottom lip again. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

_Perhaps I would_, the words echoed in my thoughts. My eyes narrowed. This was some kind of weird, mixed up déjà vu happening here. I opened my mouth, intent on demanding he explain himself; if nothing else so I could knock that arrogant smirk off his annoyingly handsome face.

A sudden scurry of activity broke my focus. All around us, his crew engaged in various tasks of preparing the ship for departure. As I watched them manipulate the various rigging and canvas, a tremor of panic slipped under my skin. Time was running out. I whipped my face back toward Hook's, uncaring at this point if he could see the desperation shining in my green eyes. "Just tell me, already," I pleaded, knowing he was smart enough to realize our game was ending and understand what I was really asking.

"So many questions…so many demands," he teased. "You're lucky you're so beautiful; none else on this ship are awarded so much of the captain's attention."

"She's important to me," I stressed, determined not to let him sidetrack me again.

His head tilted to the side once more, blue eyes blazing with amusement. "You'll have your answers, lass_._ But first, how about a night cap? I'll even give you a personal tour of the captain's quarters."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I asserted for the second time that evening. Noting his smug little 'we'll see about that' grin I added, "At this point I'd much rather take my chances with the guard."

He smirked, "You say that as if it's a threat." His eyes swept cautiously over the deck of the ship before returning to me. He brushed his hook over one of my curls and lowered his voice. "Darling, you ceased being of much use to me – outside of warming my bed – the moment your lineage became less than royal."

My breath caught as I processed his words. I blinked the sudden sting out of my eyes and stepped back, yielding the ground I'd sworn to hold. What did I care if he only saw me as another whore? We didn't know each other; not really. Why was I surprised – and worse, disappointed? It really was easier this way. I needed to find my way home, and this version of Killian Jones was not the man to get me there. "Then I'll just get going," I said calmly.

"I hate to disappoint you, love, but it's a bit late for that." He nodded beyond my shoulder and gestured for me to look. "As you can see, we're already on our way."

Taking in the sight of the seaside town, now separated from the Jolly Roger by some fifty or so feet of water, a true bolt of unease lanced down my spine. _Shit!_ My thoughts supplied. Emma Swan: captured by pirates.

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**A/N**: Thanks again for reading! I welcome (and cherish) your reviews.


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